


Armor

by Odyle



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 14:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8406109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odyle/pseuds/Odyle
Summary: Amanda prepares for battle.





	

Amanda stood before the two sets of robes, sipping her coffee and considering her options. 

The dress on the left was a beautiful copper color. The dress on the right was almost exactly the same color, just a few shades darker. She needed to pick one of them to wear to lunch with a few people from the Science Academy. 

Everything in her life was now cause for deliberation. She didn’t want to ask anyone which robe she should wear and be thought helpless. However, if she picked the wrong one, the heavy weight of silent Vulcan scrutiny would fall upon her all the same. 

When she’d come to Vulcan as an academic, she’d been given a pass. Every mistake made and offense caused was written off and attributed to the inferiority of humans. Now that she was a wife, it seemed that the Vulcans who surrounded her expected that she magically understood all unspoken customs and social cues. 

_That’s not logical,_ Amanda wanted to scream. _Just because I’m married to one of you cagey bastards doesn’t mean I’m one of you!_

In the Vulcan mind, she was Ambassador Spock’s wife. She had no greater accomplishments to offer, so that was the sum total of her identity. 

Sarek stepped into their bedroom.

“Did you forget something?” Amanda asked. 

“I wished to inform you I am leaving.” 

“And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss,” Amanda said, holding out her hand to her beloved. 

Sarek touched his finger to hers, sending a cascade of calm over her mind. 

“You are troubled.” 

“No more than usual,” Amanda said. 

Sarek hesitated for a moment, then leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. When they first married, he had argued that such casual acts of physical affection were illogical. The touch of their hands provided a deeper connection than any hug or quick kiss could provide. Amanda argued that such displays were important to humans emotionally. It gave her a rush of endorphins and reaffirmed their bond in some basic part of her brain. At any rate, marriage was a partnership and maybe it wasn’t so pointless if she desired it so badly. Armed with a justification, Sarek indulged her. He wasn’t sure of himself, but his confidence in reading her grew with each glancing kiss and steadying hand on the back. 

Amanda closed her eyes and enjoyed the warm press of his lips against her forehead. If it were another time, she’d ask him to stay and take her mind off of the choice. Sarek had places to be and she didn’t care to confront the cold Vulcan logic that would lead him to reject her invitation. 

“If you tell me what concerns you, I can give you counsel.” 

“It’s silly,” Amanda said. “Of all the things I have to do, I’m paralyzed with indecision over picking something to wear.” 

She watched her husband carefully for signs of exasperation or impatience with her. There were none to be found;he was Vulcan after all. 

“I have observed your efforts to integrate into Vulcan society. It is logical that you would be distressed. There is little guidance available to you.”

“I just feel so childish. Even the youngest Vulcan child knows all of these social cues. You’re right that there’s no guidance, but I’m not stupid. I thought I would pick up on these things by now, but here I am.” 

Amanda retreated with her cup of coffee to sit on the edge of the bed. She realized that she had been deliberating for so long that it was starting to go cold. 

Sarek sat down beside her on the bed. For a moment, he stared at the robes, but he did not offer a recommendation. He reached out to her with two fingers and they touched again. 

“I value your efforts to integrate. It is of greater importance to me that you are content.”

“I have an idea,” Amanda said. She handed her husband the now cool cup of coffee to hold. 

She took both robes down from the pegs where she’d hung them to judge them, and went into the closet attached to their bedroom. The dress she wanted was waiting for her there, still undisturbed and in the packaging from the tailor. Amanda worried the fabric between her fingers. It was not quite like any other fabric she’d ever touched. The fabric was thick and had body, but it would keep her cool in the Vulcan sun. The dress was modest enough to wear on Vulcan, but made in a decidedly human cut. The real selling point had been the color. Most Vulcan robes appropriate for such a situation were made in drab earthen tones, but this dress was dyed a deep purple. It felt like armor when her other robes felt like shrouds. 

She pulled the dress on and went out to collect her coffee from her husband. Sarek still sat on the end of the bed, waiting for her to reemerge.

“Thoughts?” Amanda asked. She did a tight turn so that the hem of the dress lifted and twirled. 

“You have not worn that robe before.” 

“I’ve had it a year or so,” she said. “I know it isn’t Vulcan. Does it bother you?” 

He handed her mug back to her and she took a sip. 

“It is not Vulcan fashion,” Sarek conceded. “But you are not a Vulcan. You are a human. I married you and ask only that you be who you are.” 

Amanda laughed. It wasn’t a surprise to hear such from her husband, but it was a great comfort. 

“You mean that I should embrace my illogical human garb and whims? How every un-Vulcan of you.” 

“I assure you it is logical,” Sarek said.


End file.
